


More

by snapeslittleblackbuttons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9493406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapeslittleblackbuttons/pseuds/snapeslittleblackbuttons
Summary: Severus gives his wife a special Valentine's Day present which includes a little more...of him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Lemonade](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Lemonade) collection. 



> **Prompt: This story was written as part of the Quills & Parchment Lemonade Smut Fest One Shot Competition 2017.**  
> Please note: This story is NOT eligible for voting consideration.  
>  
> 
> **Many, many thanks to my alpha/beta, oblivionbaby, and my beta, PhoenixPixie. Any mistakes that remain are my own.**  
> 

"That was fantastic."

His wife rolled off him, her chest heaving, and her brow slick with sweat.

“I’m going to have to buy a bloody thesaurus,” she added.

Severus huffed a laugh.

Hermione angled her body closer to him. “More,” she panted, licking her lips.

He dragged his hand down his face and chuckled. “More?”

“Can’t get enough of you, Severus Snape.”

“My insatiable little witch,” he said, his lips twitching into a smile.

“It’s very hard to be me. I seem to never get my fill of you.”

He snorted at that.

“I walk around all day long dreaming of you fucking me,” she said with a smirk, rolling onto her side and sliding her fingertips down his chest. “I think I’m addicted to you, husband.”

“Such language, _Miss Granger_.”

“I’m quite serious. I want you all the time. I have to _Tergeo_ my panties at least a couple times a day when I’m at work.”

“Why bother wearing any?”

“See what I mean? You’re insufferable. And apparently it’s making me insatiable.”

“It’s not a bad combination.”

“No, it’s not.” She took one of his forefingers in his mouth and sucked on it, hard.

He cocked an eyebrow at her but made no other move.

“Well, I guess that’s a ‘no,’” Hermione pouted. She started to get up from the bed; he grabbed her hand.

“Later,” he promised, dragging her down for a kiss. Breaking away, she smiled and sauntered to the bathroom.

“Severus,” she called as the water started for the shower, “what are we doing for Valentine’s Day?”

“Valentine’s Day?” he echoed, wincing. Sweet Merlin, he’d forgotten. _Shite_. “Are you referring to that banal celebration of infatuation and pedestrianism that we suffer each February?”

“Yeah. That’s the one. It’s next week.”

“I don’t know,” he called back. His buoyant mood evaporated as he imagined enduring a tea at Madam Puddifoot’s surrounded by thirteen year olds, blushing as they held hands for the first time. He shuddered.

The shower door clicked shut, and his wife started to hum.

“Sev?” she called. “I forgot to bring in my razor. It’s in the top drawer of my dresser. Do you mind…?”

He sighed. Had he fucked all the magic out of the witch, leaving her incapable of casting a simple _Accio_? _Okay_ , he conceded silently, _maybe it’s not the best idea to_ Accio _a razor_. “Why do you keep it in here?” he yelled as he rose from the bed.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

He began to rummage through the top drawer of her dresser…socks, bras, thongs, a few _what-the-fuck-is-this_ items…when his fingers caught on a fine gold chain.

He smiled, his good mood surfacing again. _So she claims she never gets her fill of me, does she?_ Suddenly, he knew just the way he could ensure she did. At least for an hour or so.

* * *

“See you later.” Hermione bent to kiss his cheek.

“I’ll be waiting,” Severus said. “With your present.”

He could never quite understand her devotion to her job at the Ministry. _Change will only happen from within,_ she’d told him. _Besides, what do you want me to do, sit around here all day?_

He’d smirked at that. No, he didn’t want her to _sit_ around here all day, per se. Waiting around for him on _all fours_ would be much more preferable.

The green flames of the Floo faded.

Standing up from the kitchen table, Severus walked to the sitting room to retrieve the necklace he’d found in her drawer.

He strode to the window, turning it over in his hand. The gold chain glittered.

Could he go through with what he was planning? Would he? He spent innumerable hours over the last week contemplating those things, and finally decided the real question was not whether he could, but whether he _should_.

In years past, he’d borne witness to more than he cared to remember—from the heinous to the decidedly depraved. He’d only come through unscathed because of a natural affinity for Occlumency—a talent, if you will.

Occlumency had saved his life. His sanity. _But now that I no longer need it to keep me sane,_ he’d asked himself, _could it actually give me something in return? Could it give me something only few dare imagine?_

He’d fooled the Dark Lord for more than a decade; certainly he could delude himself for an hour without going mad.

This time, in the name of pleasure.

* * *

“Hey.”

Hermione entered the room, briefcase still in hand.

Severus had been waiting for her in his favorite, generous leather chair. “I have a present for you, love.”

He crossed his legs at the knee and swirled his drink, watching the tawny liquid spin around the glass and enjoying his wife’s curious expression.

“Do you?” she said with a smirk, shedding her outer robes.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, is it not?” he quipped.

“It is. But it’s not like you to celebrate something so… _banal_.”

“This isn’t a present one can wrap. It’s more of a gift of…experience.” He took of sip of his scotch and watched her.

After a moment, Severus cast a _Tempus_ and shut the door behind her with a brief wave of his hand. As the whisper of his magic ghosted through her, Hermione jumped. She looked at him quizzically.

“You’re setting the bond wards?”

“Yes. A reminder that only you and I can enter this room,” he said, and laid the drink down on the table next to him.

He silenced her unasked question with an intense stare.

“Come here.”

She returned his gaze, undaunted, and advanced toward him while unbuttoning her shirt. His eyes slid down to her breasts and lingered there: she rewarded him with a glimpse of black and emerald lace.

“My present to you, husband.”

“My eternal gratitude.”

And as she straddled him, Severus erected the most impenetrable Occulmency shield he could.

* * *

The cool of the room whispered against her skin as Hermione felt her shirt and skirt vanish, leaving only her Valentine’s Day knickers and bra. A breath later, he shed his clothes and dipped his head to kiss her.

She pulled back to look into her husband’s dark eyes, but the man she knew was not there—she had lost him behind the strongest shield she had ever seen him raise. Why would he need Occlumency in their home, tonight? Why did he want to distance himself from her? He hadn’t retreated behind a wall in years, and certainly never when they were about to have sex.

“ _Nox_ ,” he said softly, silencing all the light in the room. Disappointment flooded her; she liked to watch his features soften as passion overtook them.

“Just for a few minutes,” he promised, as if he knew what she’d been thinking.

He took her hand firmly in his, leading her to the bed. “Lay back.”

Hermione felt him reach over and open the nightstand drawer. He slipped something over her eyes, its silkiness caressing her skin. A blindfold in this near darkness?

Apparently, tonight would not involve the soul-bearing, languid lovemaking they so often enjoyed; she got the feeling it was going to be something far more akin to a searing, gritty fuck. _Yes_ , she thought, _just what I want. Just what I need_.

A breath later, Hermione felt the bond wards breech.

“Severus…?”

“Trust me.”

She nodded in assent.

She heard the door to the bedroom open.

“Trust me,” he repeated in a whisper.

His lips settled on hers, firm yet gentle. They became more and more insistent, drawing her thoughts away from the presence of someone else in the room.

The whisper of fabric.

The tease of a descending zipper.

Warm hands on her belly.

She jumped.

Severus kissed her more fiercely as if to say _focus on me._

She trusted him. She _did_.

The warm hands slid up her belly to her abdomen and traced the lace edge of her bra; they felt sure and strong. No trace of hesitation or exploration. Just… _possession_.

“Let yourself enjoy it,” he breathed.

She shook her head in agreement, unsure if her voice was steady enough to reply upon.

“Beautiful as they are, I’m afraid those won’t work with what we have planned.” Her bra and panties vanished.

_We?_

Severus descended on her lips once more, his hair brushing either side of her face, one hand trapping both her wrists and stretching them over her head. His other hand explored her right breast as he devoured her mouth, pressing in with his own, swallowing her sighs and breathing in time with her. His fingers rolled her nipple ruthlessly between forefinger and thumb. She gasped. Her knees drew upwards as if of their own accord, falling open, leaving her dripping cunt pleading with her to do anything, absolutely anything to relieve the _want_ burning there.

But he left everything below her navel untouched, unsatisfied.

With a groan, he relinquished her lips only to move on to her nipple to ravage it with his tongue. She felt magic secure her wrists with silk bonds; the fingers that had been holding them were now pushing their way into her mouth. She moaned around his fingers and arched her back, forcing more of her breast against the warmth of his tongue. His other hand began to pinch her nipple, hard.

She felt a second set of hands on both of her knees—pulling them farther apart—and froze.

Hermione never wanted anyone else to touch her. She knew Severus would never let another man touch her, certainly not in his presence. And certainly not in this way. No one else.

And the wards…

_“A reminder that only you and I can enter this room.”_

Wait. _Wait_.

But how?

He must have felt her understanding, because he pulled away from the kiss. “Don’t try to figure out the _how_ right now.”

She nodded an agreement once again.

“Ready?” he breathed.

If anything, Severus plundered her breast even more violently—adding a suggestion of teeth—until she surrendered her attention to it once more, temporarily ignoring the fingertips on her knees.

Fingernails dragged down one of her inner thighs, slow, deliberate, and sure, as a tongue mirrored the same path on the other leg, laving, sucking, nibbling until both fingers and tongue met at her core. Soft hair tickled her skin. Hot breath tortured her cunt. She squirmed. A savage tongue descended on her, pushing, probing…until two fingers found her need and demanded entrance.

She sighed. _Bliss._

A tongue played along her clit, at times, softly grazing, at other times, insistent; fingers danced inside her, teasing more sticky desire. A groan reverberated against her bud and she arched her back, unable to keep herself still.

All the while another set of lips pillaged her breast.

The touch of four hands at once claimed her every thought: one hand was at her mouth while she sucked on a forefinger, doing her best to echo the pulse of another hand, whose fingers breached her warm, wet chamber; the third hand toyed with a nipple, eliciting both pleasure and pain while the last hand pulled back her folds to expose her clit to the whims of a greedy tongue.

After unspeakable moments of pleasure, Hermione came with a wild cry, straining against the soft fabric that held her wrists in place and shattering into a mosaic of pieces, melting, and rebuilding as each softening pulse reverberated within her.

Severus vanished her blindfold.

He waved his hand, and small flame burst from a candle on his nightstand. The satin rope disappeared.

She glanced down to discover a head of straight, dark hair between her thighs. The man to which it belonged looked up at her with her husband’s eyes, her husband’s smirk.

"I may have borrowed something I found in your dresser,” he said, adjusting his unbuttoned shirt and a chain holding a tiny hourglass surrounded by what looked like a gyroscope, “and I’m not—rather _we’re_ not—anywhere close to being finished with you.”

Hermione felt her lips twist into a smile. _How in the hell had I never thought to do this before?_

“Are you…okay?” she managed. “You can see yourself…”

He lifted an eyebrow and gifted her a grand smirk. “Turn around,” he growled instead of answering her question, “All fours.”

She flipped over, got up on her hands and knees, and pointed her arse at the man who, a moment ago, had been laving her clit with his tongue.

The Severus who had been laying waste to one nipple rose to his knees in front of her, his naked body flushed. His cock begged for attention. She crawled forward and wrapped her hand around his length; he twisted his fingers in her hair as she slid her fingers up and down and licked its dripping head.  

The bed dipped behind her.

Warm hands on her back descended to caress her arse, rubbing in circles as if to calm her; Hermione felt the sides of his open button down shirt graze her skin. He positioned himself at her entrance; she parted her legs a bit more, and he pushed himself inside her with a grunt. She cried out at the abruptness, and he began to thrust.

She looked up at the naked husband in front of her and bit her lip. He smirked back. _He’s watching me. He’s watching himself fuck me._

Hermione arched her back more deeply, grabbed the hips in front of her, and took his glistening cock in her mouth, moaning and keening around him as he fisted more of her hair.

The man behind her— _also my husband,_ she reminded herself—grabbed her hips for more leverage, and pulled them upward, driving more forcefully downward. Unable to cry out in pleasure, she moaned around the dick in her mouth. A fist twisted her hair more roughly.

Her husband fucking her from behind…her husband in her mouth--

 _More!_ she pleaded silently. _Yes!_

Both Severuses seemed to come at once, pouring into her throat and cunt simultaneously, pulsing and grunting and panting--

Forget her husband going mad by seeing his future self; _she_ was going to lose her mind.

It would be a decidedly delicious descent into madness, though.      

Hermione released his still-pulsing cock from her lips, and collapsed forward onto her belly in the tangle of sheets. Her naked husband laid down beside her and rolled over on his back.

“Well, then,” he said.

She huffed a laugh and settled in next to him, rolling onto her side and draping her arm across his chest. Her husband from the near-future, still wearing his button down, spooned up behind her and threw his arm around her waist, settling in close to her, the whisper of the fabric tickling her skin.

“Give us a couple of minutes,” said the velvet voice in her ear.

“Take all the time you like,” she purred. “Well, maybe not _all_ the time…”

And the Occlumens facing her seemed to allow a small smile shine through his dark eyes.

* * *

Hermione had closed her eyes, content for the moment to be held by both of him.

It had been a…fascinating evening so far. Fascinating? _That doesn’t even begin to cover it._

Fingertips brushed her cheek; she blinked her eyes open.

“Sleeping already, love? Just a few minutes ago, I could have sworn I heard you beg for more,” Severus teased.

“I’m sure I was just thinking very loudly.”

He slid his long fingers behind her neck and pulled her toward him for a long, deep kiss.

“More…” she whispered around the kiss.

“Ah. There you are.”

In one graceful move, Severus flipped onto his back and dragged her on top of him. It wasn’t long before she sat more upright and mounted him with a thankful sigh.

The bed dipped.

She hazarded a glance over her shoulder. The man behind her smirked.

_Oh…_

She turned forward again and met Severus’s eye.

Fingers pressed into the skin of her back, dipping down towards her arse and the bundle of nerves at its opening. She felt him preparing her. His fingers—first one, then two— teasing and circling the entrance, deliberately probing and stretching the walls inside.

The husband underneath her stopped moving. He looked beyond her and nodded almost imperceptibly.

Warm skin lined her back; she felt her hair being brushed off her shoulder, then a breath in her ear.

“Ready?” said her husband’s velvet voice.

“Please…”

As he entered her, she cried out from a pleasure she had never before experienced, a feeling of being filled completely, every nerve ending screaming with satisfaction. Coupled with the sensation of a dick already stretching her core, she thought she might pass out.

They began to move.

Unable to control her voice—her body at the delicious mercy of two men that were, at once, her husband—she cried out with every stroke plunging into her, her every cry met with a grunt from both in front and behind her.

She willed herself not to faint.

_…fuck…_

She closed her eyes; it was too much to take in. For a moment, she just wanted to _feel._

Urgent lips met hers, stealing her breath, and swallowing her whole.

Held up by their bodies and their thrusts, she surrendered to the sensations between her thighs as they propelled her into a spiraling abyss of light.

Both men gave their own cry in the sound of her name.

After a moment, the man at her back kissed her tenderly from neck to shoulder, his hair grazing her skin, and he pulled away, panting. She kissed the husband in front of her and allowed herself to retreat into the sheets.

* * *

By the time Hermione opened her eyes, there was only one body lying with her in the bed. In fact, the sheets behind her back were decidedly cold.

“Go back to sleep,” Severus whispered, kissing her forehead and slipping out his side of the bed.

Severus pulled on his shirt, leaving it open in the front.

“Where are you going?” she asked sleepily.

“I get to enjoy another Valentine’s Day present.” He smirked. “I get to do that again.”

And Hermione smiled at him as he closed the door to their bedroom, her Time-Turner swinging wildly over his chest.

 

**Author's Note:**

> All things Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling, not me.


End file.
